Star Wars Episode VIII: Revenge of the Slytherin Prince
by La-Bruja-Melancolica
Summary: "Oh, you know Harry," Hermione chokes out, "the, the STAR WARS! Draco is concerned that even though they took place 'a long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away' there might still be some danger for us and the muggle should these alien creatures be allowed to visit our planet like in the 'documentaries'."


Draco moves in with Hermione and is overwhelmed by all of her amazing muggle contraptions. The electricity is so incredibly convenient and that microwave, like holy shit, he's now a connoisseur of popcorn and hot pockets. Sweet Merlin the hot pockets. But his real favorite is the telly. It's amazing, and he's obsessed. The news in real time and sports you can actually watch without having to deal with the nasty weather. He has no idea how wizards have gone so long with out them. It can even be educational, Hermione has a giant collection of documentaries he can watch about seemingly every topic in the universe, well except Magic. But she strictly instructed him that he was not allowed, under any circumstances, to make one with Harry. Buzzkill.

Then, one afternoon Draco is home sick from his job at the ministry and bored out of his mind. So he decides to investigate whether or not the muggle have actually made it to the moon like his crazy witch says. He still can't figure out the computer thing so he heads to the wall of DVDs, she's gotta have a documentary about something that insane right? Luckily he finds a six part series directed by some muggle with two first names and popped it in while devouring his microwavable lunch.

Hermione tumbles in late that night after a grueling day at the ministry to find a dishevelled Draco pacing around their flat. There's a pen tucked behind his ear, notes and food wrappers all over the sofa table, and the sound of lightsabers clashing in the background.

"Draco," she ventursd feigning boredom as she began tidying up behind him, "Why are you taking notes on Star Wars? You never even took this many for your NEWTs courses?"

He turns toward her mid-pace, "Because Hermione, this is way more important than turning a rat into a bloody goblet! How could you never tell me about this? How have muggle kept this a secret? Does the minister know about this, are these other creatures allowed to just come and go around Earth as they please? I haven't made it to the last two yet, but honestly how could the muggle be so chill with all of this?"

"Oh I dunno, most muggle are actually really big fans. Very keen, they even have conventions and clubs I believe." She has to retreat to the kitchen to keep from laughing in his faces. She really should tell him the truth, but it really just seemed too late for that now. Harry is going to have a fit when she tells him.

"Hermione really," he demands as he rounds the counter behind her, "What are we supposed to do? I new the muggle had weapons, but nothing like these! Would our wands and spells even work in space?" Now the poor thing just looks genuinely frighten, no, maybe woke was the right word? Yes, definitely that was it. Draco Malfoy is woke. And that's all Hermione can take, she loses it right there in the middle of the kitchen.

Draco panics, what else does one do when their witch finally realizes the gravity of a dangerous situation and instead of responding like a strong, collected war heroine she collapses into a fit of hysterical laughter. She is obviously too overcome with fear to react properly and that worries him. So, he grabs her mobile off the counter and phones who else but the Boy Wonder.

With a crack, he's here instantly, phone still pressed to his ear, and rushes to the side of his best friend currently lying in the fetal position gasping for air.

"What have you done to her you idiot?" He demands of the blonde.

"I don't know, we were talking about the muggles' space wars and about whether or not we were in any danger and I think perhaps she was overwhelmed with fear."

"Wait, what?"

"Oh, you know Harry," Hermione chokes out, "the, the STAR WARS! Draco is concerned that even though they took place _'a long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away'_ there might still be some danger for us and the muggle should these alien creatures be allowed to visit our planet like in the 'documentaries'."

Draco wasn't sure what the clawing motion she made with both her pointer and middle fingers when she said "documemtary" meant, surely it was a muggle thing that only Scarhead would understand. All he knew was know he had two hysterical psychos rolling around his kitchen crying. Fuck it, he'd call Pansy. Atleast if his wife was here Potter would have to take this dangerous matter seriously, at least for her sake.

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"Drake, sweetheart," she began sweetly after making him a cup of tea, "I've watched those with Harry and I assure you there is nothing to worry about." She was going to ring her husband's skinny little neck for doing this to the poor boy, and she'd have hexed Granger if she wasn't already sure what Draco would have in-store would be far worse when he found out the truth about the films.

""Pans, how can you be so calm if you've seen them? This is insane, we have to do something. How can you stand their and tell me their is nothing to worry about, the muggle are waging war eith each other all around us and now apparently in space as well!"

"Darling, do you understand the difference between a documentary and a movie?" she knew she needed to be as delicate as possible and let him come to the conclusion on his own. If seven years in the dungeons with Draco had taught her anything it was how to direct his reactions, especially the volatile ones, away from her, and if this one wasn't guarateed to cause an explosion she would dye her hair Weasley red.

Hermione and Harry entered the room the moment understanding flashed across Draco's face and they braced themselves for the storm that was no doubt brewing. Instead, the were meet by a simple, "Oh." Draco thanked Pansy and with a kiss to her check wished them all a good night before languidly rising from the sofa to retreat down the hall.

 _Ah, the slow burn_ Pansy thought, "Well darling I believe we should leave them to it. A simple misunderstanding it appears. Goodnight Hermione, I'm truly so glad I could help sort it all out." After all, she didn't hate the poor girl, but she didn't envy her either nor was she in the mood to reverse whatever vengeance spell he came up with off of her husband tonight either. So, the self-preservationist in her guided her idiot husband to the floo as quickly and gentle as possible and with a flash of green flames they were in neutral ground miles away at Grimauld Place.

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Hermione really should have know that wouldn't be the end of it. She had embarrassed him in front of Harry and Pansy, or at the very least hadn't stopped him from doing it to himself. But, after he had brought coffee to her and Harry's department this morning like every wednesday they had both just assumed that bygones were just that.

She never would have guessed that if he had chosen to get back at them that he would've done so with much finesse or dedication. It appeared that she was incorrect in that assesment though. Because although all seemed to have been forgotten, here she was two months later covered head to two I'm thick brown fur and unable to articulate anything more than a small range of, what were they, yodels? He was going to pay.

However, she didn't even get a chance because the moment she stormed through the flew of their flat she was met with the flash of a camera and the dastardly smirk of a boy she hadn't know since Hogwarts plastered across her boyfriend's face.

"Oh Hermione dear," he turned to call down the hallway, "something's just come through the floo. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, afterall you did say Wookiees weren't real, right? I'll just send this one away."

He had refused to give her the antidote for his little potion for a solid four hours and it had been like the second year polyjuice fiasco all over again. But, Hermione supposed it was only fair and just thanked Merlin the results of hers had been quite as potent or as slimy as the draft he brewed for Harry and that, unlike Pansy, Draco had only taken one photo and had simply tucked it away instead of having it framed for the mantle. He may have gotten even, but Pansy, shit that witch was scary.


End file.
